A Better Alternative
by WayLowHalo
Summary: Modern Day AU. Theon Greyjoy, ward of the Stark family, is a senior in high school. Ramsay Bolton delights in terrorizing him and making his life as wretched and miserable as possible. Dark themes. Abuse of the physical, mental and sexual nature.


_**Disclaimer**_ : Game of Thrones _and all recognizable characters do not, and never will, belong to me._

 _Author's Note: Another prompt, again given to me by_ TwilightBrightStar _._

 _Prompt - "Character A finds Character B in an alley naked, bloody and drunk... they're friends or family... Character A takes Character B home and they can explain why they are in that state."_

 _I'm afraid it turned out a whole lot darker than I thought it would._

 _Warning: Serious suggestive themes here. Possible trigger warnings. Read with caution._

 **A Better Alternative**

"I can't believe all the homework Luwin assigned," Theon groaned once the bell rang, signaling the end of classes for the day.

"It's not that bad," Robb remarked, rolling his eyes at his friend.

"Not as long as you stay out of the clubs with that fake ID anyway," Jon added, hoisting his backpack to his shoulder.

"Easy for you to say," Theon smirked, shoving his books into his own bag, missing the look that Robb and Jon exchanged. "You don't have a life, Snow."

"You really should throw that ID out," Robb said, clapping Theon's shoulder. "Just because Ramsay gave it to you doesn't mean you should use it. He's bad news, Theon."

"If you and Sansa would just stop listening to him –"

"Ramsay's got nothing to do with this," Theon said quickly, cutting Jon off, forcing his expression into a leer. "I can't deny the ladies that count on me."

"Whatever you say." Jon rolled his eyes, heading toward the door.

"You're just jealous, Snow!" Theon called after him, smirking, as Robb shook his head.

"Come on. We've got errands to run for Dad. He's in meetings all day today," the eldest Stark said. "We should split up. Do them faster. Jon is handling the mechanic and picking up Dad and Uncle Benjen's tuxes for the gala this weekend. Figured you and I could divide up the rest."

"Fine." Theon sighed, knowing he didn't have a whole lot of choice and he didn't miss the concerned look Robb threw his way.

"Theon. About Ramsay –"

"There's nothing to say about Ramsay," Theon snapped, not meeting his best friend's eyes, his stomach feeling suddenly queasy. He couldn't talk about Ramsay. He couldn't. Robb didn't know and there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing. "Just drop it, Stark."

Robb sighed, shaking his head. "Whatever you say."

* * *

Theon hurried through the high school campus, heading for the parking lot and his car beyond, his eyes straight ahead. He was almost there. Almost. If he just didn't look up, didn't make eye contact with anyone.

"There you are, Reek."

The voice and the wide grin that accompanied it sent shivers down Theon's spine and he had to fight not to shrug off the hand that landed on his shoulder.

"R-Ramsay," he greeted, and he couldn't help the stutter that the other automatically brought out of him, the way his eyes darted around the campus, looking for someone… anyone…

"I'd thought you and I might spend some time together today, Reek," Ramsay said, his voice light.

Theon's stomach plummeted and his gaze dropped to the ground, unable to look Ramsay in the face… unable to look at the other students and the teachers who wouldn't see…

"Do you have an objection, Reek?"

Ramsay's smile never wavered but his voice shifted just so and Theon hurriedly shook his head. "N-no. I j-just…"

"Just what, Reek?"

"I… have some errands to r-run for Mr. Stark," Theon managed, swallowing thickly. Errands and then homework because he still wasn't caught up from the _last_ time that Ramsay had decided to _spend time_ with him and Luwin had, of course, added more... And Mr. Stark was only letting him stay at Winterfell so long as he kept up with his school work. He was letting him stay when Theon's own father had proclaimed him worthless and Theon was worthless, he knew, but if he could just keep Mr. Stark from knowing it… because otherwise where would he live?

"Are you saying no to me, Reek?"

Ramsay's voice had acquired a dangerous softness to it, the smile fading away, and Theon fought a surge of fear, suddenly feeling the need to urinate. "O-of c-course not," he said quickly, shaking his head, and he wished Robb and even Jon had stuck with him. Wished they hadn't decided to split up Mr. Stark's errands because it might take longer but there was safety in numbers and Ramsay hardly ever approached when he was with Mr. Stark's sons.

Of course, then Ramsay would probably turn his attention to Sansa…

"Good." And Ramsay was smiling again, the hand on Theon's shoulder tightening. "Let's go then, Reek."

* * *

"A-aren't we going to the c-club?" Theon asked, looking with trepidation at the Bolton home, the Dreadfort, and trying not to throw up.

 _Please, no. Please, please, please._

"Reek, it's not even 4:30. The clubs aren't open yet. We have time to kill," Ramsay said cheerfully, stopping the car and getting out and Theon had to bite down hard on his bottom lip to keep from moaning in terror. Time to _kill._

Ramsay's smile was wide. "Don't keep me waiting, Reek."

"S-sorry," Theon gasped, getting quickly from the car and following Ramsay into the house and in the back of his head a tiny part of him whispered that maybe, one of the times Robb tried to talk to him about Ramsay… maybe he should let him. Maybe he should tell him…

But Theon knew what would happen then. Knew what Ramsay would do to him and even to Sansa. And, of course, that knowledge was why neither of them ever spoke up.

Ramsay couldn't be stopped. And Theon wasn't worth saving anyway. His father wouldn't have abandoned him with the Starks if he was at all worthwhile. If he really was Theon Greyjoy.

He was just Reek though, no matter what he pretended for everyone else. Ramsay saw things the way they were. Saw and treated him accordingly.

Thoughts of talking to Robb… of telling him… they were foolish.

Ramsay would win in the end. Ramsay had told him that often enough.

 _Ramsay Bolton always catches his prey._

* * *

"Take off your clothes, Reek," Ramsay said idly, examining his collection of knives.

"My… my clothes?" Theon repeated, feeling his heart start pounding in overdrive.

 _Please, no…_

"Yes, Reek. Your clothes," Ramsay repeated. "And how do you address me when we're here? Or do you need another lesson?"

"N-no lesson, M-master," Theon said quickly, trying to swallow down the sick feeling of terror at the thought of Ramsay's lessons and hoping he wasn't going to lose control of his bladder. Not again. Not after last time.

Ramsay raised a brow at him and Theon gulped, his hands fumbling with the buckle of his pants, struggling to unfasten them and yanking them down, knowing better than to keep Ramsay waiting any longer than he already had.

"A naked man has few secrets," Ramsay mused as Theon stepped hastily out of his shoes, his pants and boxers quickly following.

"A-and a f-flayed man, n-none," Theon muttered, familiar with Ramsay's favorite saying and quickly pulling his shirt over his head, catching sight of Ramsay grinning again as he did, his chosen knife in his hand.

"Very good, Reek. Now… come here."

* * *

"Have more to drink, Reek," Ramsay said, pushing another tumbler of something across the table to him and Theon obediently downed it, not bothering to ask what it was.

He knew what was coming and the alcohol would make it easier. Or at least… fuzzier. He might be able to forget it, if Ramsay let him drink enough. "Is it good, Reek?" Ramsay asked now and Theon could only just make him out over the pulsing beat of the club's music.

"Y-yes, Master. Very good," Theon answered, the flashing strobe lights giving Ramsay's face a strange, not altogether human appearance. That would make it easier too. Or so Theon told himself.

No human would do what Ramsay did. Maybe the strobe lights were merely showing the truth.

Though if that were the case Theon tried not to think what the strobe lights would show about him.

 _Worthless. Pathetic. Dog._

 _Reek._

Across the table, beside Ramsay, Sansa's eyes were blank. Theon knew the look, recognized the feeling behind it. If she could be somewhere else in her mind than she might not have to experience her reality.

Theon envied her, her absence.

"Another," Ramsay allowed, nodding to the scantily clad bar girl to refill Theon's drink as well as his own and, at Ramsay's nod in his direction, Theon gulped it down. "Under the table, Reek," Ramsay said once he finished and Theon closed his eyes even as he obeyed, fighting the tremors that the alcohol couldn't take away. "Do you want Reek to pleasure you, my dear?" Ramsay's voice asked and Theon could imagine him turning to Sansa and he fought a whimper.

From his position under the table Theon couldn't hear Sansa's response but he could see her legs clenching, the tautness of her muscles. He could also see that she wasn't wearing any underwear underneath her short skirt and knew that was Ramsay's doing.

He glanced quickly away, turning his attention to himself. His clothes were back on, thankfully, but Theon knew that could change at any instant. Knew that just because they were in a public place didn't mean anything. Not a public place that Ramsay's father owned at any rate. Ramsay and his father didn't appear to be very close but Roose Bolton also didn't seem particularly inclined to interfere in his son's activities. And aside from serving him drinks when he beckoned the staff steered clear as well.

Theon shifted slightly in the cramped space under the small table and he could feel the hastily wrapped bandages under his clothes, was aware they were uncomfortably wet but couldn't tell, in the current lighting, if any of the blood was showing on his clothes. Not that there was anything that could be done about it if it was. The alcohol helped. Not much… but Theon would take what he could get.

"Well, Reek?" Ramsay's face appeared under the table and Theon gulped at the irritation he could see.

"M-master?"

"Sansa is waiting for your attention," Ramsay said, nodding toward Robb's sister, his eyes glinting cruelly, and Theon felt all at once sick, covering his mouth with a shaking hand as he noticed that Sansa's skirt was now on the floor at her feet, her legs trembling violently. "Open up, my dear," Ramsay purred, and slowly Sansa's legs opened.

"M-master… please…" Theon whispered and before Theon could react Ramsay's foot lashed out, catching Theon in the mouth and making him fall backward, his head hitting one of the table legs and stars dancing in his vision.

"Use your mouth, Reek," Ramsay ordered calmly as Theon spat up blood, scrambling back to his knees.

Slowly Theon crawled forward, hating himself maybe even more than he hated Ramsay, his whole-body throbbing and his vision flickering, whether from fear or pain he didn't know.

* * *

"Theon. Theon!"

Theon groaned, only slowly becoming aware of the voices and the hands lightly patting at his face.

"Theon, wake up!"

 _Robb._

Theon frowned, another groan escaping him.

When did Robb show up?

"Jesus. What happened to you?"

Theon felt his brows furrow. "Snow?" he managed, his voice alarmingly faint and hoarse.

"He's naked," Jon's voice said and at the words slow, sluggish memories started flickering through Theon's mind.

The club… the flashing strobe lights… _Sansa… Ramsay…_

 _"How about we move into one of the more private rooms?"_

Ramsay's voice, light and amused, his eyes intent.

 _"Take off your clothes, Reek. You too, Sansa. You can pleasure me, my dear, while Reek pleasures you."_

"No… no, please! Don't make me, please!"

"Theon! Theon, stop it!" Robb's voice yelled, a strong hand suddenly grabbing his and Theon realized he had been hitting his own head, frantically trying to knock the memories out, to stop it from re-playing in his head.

"Where's Sansa?" Jon asked, covering Theon up with his own coat. "Myranda came and got her earlier. I tried to tell her to stay but she didn't listen. I assumed we would find you and her here with Bolton."

"No, no, no." Mindlessly Theon shook his head, trying to shut out the words, trying not to hear.

 _"Why don't you rest here, Reek? You've done well tonight. I would like some time alone with my sweet Sansa now."_

 _"No, Ramsay, please! Please, let me go home!" Sansa's voice had been a babble of terror as Theon had collapsed, like so much trash, in the alley the back entrance of the club opened into. "Theon! Theon, help me!"_

"Calm down, Theon. You're okay, it's okay," Robb said now, leaning over his friend on the dirty ground, a hand on the side of his face.

"Robb," Theon managed, finally opening his eyes, tears spilling down his face. "Robb."

"I'm here. We both are," Robb said, glancing anxiously at Jon. "Do you need a hospital?"

"It looks like he's been slashed up," Jon remarked and Theon shuddered.

"N-no h-hospital. P-please."

"Theon, that might not be a good idea…"

"No hospital!" Theon shrieked, as loudly as he could manage, panic threatening to brim over the surface.

"Okay! Fine, no hospital," Robb agreed, pulling one of Theon's arms up over his shoulder. "We're going to get you home though."

Theon moaned, pain shooting through him as Robb and Jon worked to hoist him up and half drag, half carry him to the car.

"No… I…"

Theon wretched then, vomit surging up and spewing out.

"Easy, we've got you," Jon panted, he and Robb supporting Theon as the contents of his stomach, such as they were, forcibly emptied, splattering onto the ground; all the drinks Ramsay had pushed onto him making it a largely liquid experience.

"Ughh, did you drink the club out of business?" Robb remarked, trying not to look.

"Sansa," Theon mumbled, sagging in their grip, consciousness slipping away.

"What about Sansa? Theon, do you know where she is?"

Robb's voice was faint, the alarm in it only just making itself known, and though Theon tried, he couldn't hang on enough to respond.

 _Sansa…_

* * *

"We have to take him to the hospital, Robb. He's covered in blood."

"I know." Robb's voice was grim and Theon slowly blinked his eyes open, his head lolling against the window.

Robb's car. He was in Robb's car. "No hospital," he croaked and Jon turned from his position in the passenger seat to look at him.

"You're bleeding, Theon."

 _Ramsay smiling at him as he stepped closer. "Tell me when it hurts, Reek."_

"Thank you for that, Snow," Theon managed, attempting to push himself upright, noting with relief that he was wrapped in a blanket.

"Your back. It looks like you've been whipped." Robb's voice was quiet but Theon flinched all the same.

"I'm fine," Theon said automatically, managing to cut off that he had deserved it. Ramsay had said he did. Slowly, he lifted the blanket up, grimacing some at the blood and vomit streaked on his body.

Still, he probably looked better than…

 _"I would like some time alone with my sweet Sansa now."_

Theon's breath hitched and he shook his head, Sansa's sobs and pleadings echoing in his head.

Ramsay had said if he ever told…

 _"Theon, please! Please!"_

 _"His name is Reek, darling, and he can't help you. He's nothing."_

"Theon?" Robb's voice was worried, and when they stopped at a red light he glanced back at his friend. "Theon, you mentioned Sansa…"

"He has her." And Theon didn't know where the words came from, hadn't know he was going to say them.

Ramsay had told him… but he was sitting here in the back of Robb's car, naked and covered in blood and he could still _taste_ Sansa, could still hear her sobs, and it _hurt_ and Ramsay had done that. Ramsay…

Ramsay would kill him…

"He has her. He makes us… do things," Theon said, the words tumbling out of his mouth at long last. "Things that… bad things… And he took her. He's raping her."

Death was really all Ramsay could do to him now.

And maybe death would be better. Maybe it would be a relief.

- **End**.


End file.
